The Princess and the Dork
by TheOneAndOnly1993
Summary: **Now a collaboration with KQSimply** Though it's been days since Riley almost ran away, all of her Emotions are still greatly affected by what happened. When Fear makes a decision that shocks everybody, feelings begin to surface as they try to grapple with the changes suddenly impacting their lives, and the mistakes that they made.
1. The Mind Reader

**_The Princess and the Dork_**

 _By TheOneAndOnly1993_

* * *

It was an interview for _The Mind Reader,_ that silly newspaper Anger's always got his nonexistent nose in that filled all the workers in Riley's mind on the happenings of her daily life. Papers are generally printed and updated on the fly, some could even say they just pop out of nowhere. But occasionally, they do an interview on some of the more "reclusive" denizens of Riley Anderson's mindscape. Interest in these strange little people, who might as well have been kings and queens, up in their ivory tower, spiked dramatically after the debacle regarding the San Francisco move very nearly resulted in the total collapse of Riley's personality, and the destruction of her psyche.

Naturally, the blame went to those directly in charge of her emotional well-being, and all five each deserved some share of it. However, "blame" is such a toxic and hostile word. "Responsible" sounded much kinder, and more respectful, on the little invitations the Emotions found underneath their pillows one morning.

Every Emotion agreed to their interview, though the conclusion of each varied between each individual.

Joy and Sadness were the only ones to complete theirs entirely, giving the full story from their own perspective, how they felt throughout, and what occurred weeks after. The only difference between each, was that Joy seemed rather melancholy in comparison to Sadness when her final question was asked, _"And how are you feeling these days, after everything that's happened?"_

Joy hesitated noticeably before answering. _"Different,"_ she'd said, rather forcefully. _"The things I've witnessed, what I've seen, it's all been incredible and scary and sad all at the same time. But on the other hand, everything is just so_ different _now because of it. This move, these mixed memories, nobody really looks to me for guidance anymore. And while it's nice to have a break, and I get really happy when I see my friends make decisions on how to take care of Riley on their own, I dunno. I just feel really...really small, now. Like, I'm no longer the driving force in our lives, and really, I shouldn't have been in the first place. And after seeing the absolute wonderland that is Imagination Land, the shivery-creepiness of the Subconscious, and the inner-workings of Dream Productions, suddenly...taking a shower and having breakfast just seems...trivial in comparison."_

On a happier note, Sadness expressed how "grateful" she was at "finally being able to do something," and how her teammates finally treated her "like an actual person instead of an animal that needed to be contained and sneered at."

 _"It's really nice,"_ she had said. _"I like this a lot more than how it was before. I think I'm the only one who does."_

Readers went nuts over her interview, to the extent where she actually gained a fanbase that sent her letters through the recall tubes. More than a few of them contained some unsavory jeers and criticisms directed at her coworkers. Though she appreciated the attention, it was Sadness's idea to toss any future letters into the trash after one so cruelly said, _"Man, if I knew how mean Joy was I wouldn't have helped her escape the Train of Thought before it fell."_

Thankfully, Joy seemed relatively unfazed by the bullies. Though Sadness knew, from both her interview and just the contents of the letters and what they said, that Joy was still hurting weeks after the Incident. Not just mentally, but emotionally as well. She did, after all, witness a good friend _die_ before her eyes, was the one responsible for hurting Riley in the first place, and put many lives in jeopardy, Sadness's included, over the course of their adventure. Nobody goes through what she did without changing a little, nor do they come to terms with it without someone like Sadness to talk to and (occasionally) cry with. In a way, she reminded Fear of Bilbo Baggins. Joy laughed when he told her that.

Anger's interview went about as well as one would expect. When asked about the idea he gave Riley, Anger pulled out, leaving a smoke cloud, black footprints, and a whole rainbow of curses in his wake.

At least he answered a couple questions. Disgust was silent after her first, staring petulantly at the mic like it was covered in every vile substance known to man for almost an hour before it retreated into the ceiling on its own and the door unlocked for her.

When he asked what the question was, Disgust wordlessly shoved the index card in Fear's face and left him before he could peel it off his cheek. The first and only question she answered was, _Describe yourself, your job, and some of your likes and dislikes._ Standard. Then he read the second: _Do you actually care about Riley?_

In that moment, Fear understood what the prissy green Emotion felt almost every day. He didn't bother reading the rest of the questions; they immediately found a home at the bottom of the trash bin, torn to shreds so that no one else may peek at their contents.

But now it was Fear's turn.

With a gulp, the lanky Emote shuffled inside his own bedroom, where almost instantaneously the door lock clicked behind him. _That's a fire hazard,_ he thought with a lurch in his gut. _Or they could gas the room and no one would be able to save me. Not that they would,_ he thought with a roll of his eyes. _I'd be choking on my last breath and Disgust would likely retch at the gagging sounds I make while Anger would laugh._

Fear clucked his tongue, pacing languidly across his room before taking a seat on his bed. Just as he began to wonder how the interview would be conducted, a mic was lowered from the ceiling the instant he sat down, and he suddenly felt something papery between his fingers. He looked down, and saw an index card with the questions on it.

 _Weird,_ he thought, but Fear did not dare question how _The Mind Reader_ operated, or who even ran it. After all, if it can just make microphones appear in their bedrooms and little cards with predetermined inquiries pop into existence, literally on hand, who's to say they can't just as easily smite them all with just a thought? The idea made Fear's throat tighten. And although Disgust and Anger did not endure any white hot wrath from a vengeful tabloid god, the pessimist and worrywart in Fear just knew that he would be the one exception, should he choose to disobey.

With this in mind, Fear looked about the room, clutching the card in two hands. The silence in his room, with the mic silently hanging before him, waiting, put his nerves on edge and made him shudder. "I guess I should start now," he squeaked, speaking to no one in particular. Clearing his throat, Fear read, " _Describe yourself, your job, and some of your likes and dislikes."_

* * *

About ten minutes later, Fear had given his life story, what it was like living in Headquarters, and thoughts on his coworkers. He made sure not to say anything unsavory about Anger, knowing the firebrick would likely roast him if he caught Fear badmouthing him in a way that would result in more hate-mail.

 _"We don't get along much,"_ he had said. _"But Anger, Disgust, and I did our jobs to keep Riley safe until Joy and Sadness returned. They're dedicated to our girl, I can tell you that."_

But when the "big moment" of this interview finally came, the one that has been on the back of his mind since he first got that invitation, Fear knew he had to play his cards right. He couldn't burn his way out of this, nor have the nerve to sit quiet for an hour. The only thing Fear could do was talk, which usually got him hurt anyways. But words arguably hurt less than a punch in the face, or pants gone aflame. _Stick and stones, Fear, sticks and stones._ With a deep breath, he read the question aloud, " _How did the idea of running away come about?_ "

Fear looked down at his own two feet. _It was Anger,_ he wanted to say. _Disgust agreed to it, but I took no part._

That was the truth, that's what they wanted to know. The truth came easily to Fear, he was an honest Emote whose loyalties lied with the rulebook. Plus, telling all of the Mindscape who was truly to blame for almost ruining Riley's life would really give Anger and Disgust some well-deserved karma. Fear's brows furrowed as he thought of them; Anger, always screaming and hollering, ordering Fear around and being a bully who obtained cooperation through threats and intimidation, which in his mind was no different from trying to achieve obedience from Sadness by guilt-tripping her. And then there's Disgust, an Emotion whose beauty was only matched by her impertinent attitude and complete disregard for others' feelings.

To Fear, she was the very definition of garbage wrapped in shiny tinfoil.

As soon as he thought that, Fear eyed every corner of his room to make sure the Drama Queen wasn't there, reading his thoughts in that way she's known to do. He never knew how she did it, but somehow, Disgust could almost always tell what one is thinking just by giving them a once-over with that critical eye of her's. Fear knew she would yell his ear out if she ever caught him thinking such a thing.

Yes, a darker part of his mind thought. Throwing those two under the bus may actually be worth the injuries that would later ensue, if only to let the denizens of the Subconscious, Long Term, Dream Productions, Imagination Land and everything in between know how, how...just... _unpleasant_ those two are to live with! And the letters _he_ would get, all those kind words and sympathies that Sadness nearly drowned in a few days prior would be _his._

All he had to do was tell the truth.

Or not. It would be much easier to hide under his bed until the door unlocked. _But wouldn't that make the readers even more suspicious? Anger and Disgust made no comment on the idea to run away,_ nagged a voice in the back of his head. It took a moment for him to realize that it was his own. _Anger and Disgust will be humiliated if I told the truth, maybe even hated. And then they'll hate me even more, if that was possible._

Then an idea came to him, a good one. But Fear saw absolutely no possible benefit that would come of this, only the probability of a gruff "thanks" and nothing more. Fear sighed long and deep into his hands. Why, oh, why did nice guys finish last?

 _I'll be hated by everyone,_ he thought, and then, _but maybe I will be thanked by the ones that actually matter._

With that, Fear's mind was set. He cleared his throat, gave a tremulous sigh, and answered with all the genuine shame and conviction eating away at his nerve. He had to speak clear and directly, before it was gone completely.

"The idea to run away was a choice not made lightly. With Joy gone, I was the one in charge, and I knew we had to prepare for the worst in case she and Sadness never returned. With the Core Memories gone, I figured that we could make more if we returned to Minnesota. When I brought the idea forward, both Anger and Disgust flat out refused, but I was determined to make Riley happy again. So when I had dream duty, I awoke Riley from a nightmare and put the idea into her head, which she accepted. And when things started to turn sour we couldn't pull out, and I..." Fear swallowed the softball-sized lump in his throat. His voice shook. "I tried to quit, run away from my problems like a coward instead of facing them together with Riley." His breaths were shallow. "I'm sorry for everything I did, please, everybody, forgive me for what I did."

Fear felt an itch on his cheek. When he scratched it, his fingers came back wet.

When he looked back up, he gasped a little at the unexpected sight of the microphone still hanging before him. Fear was only confused for a moment when he looked down at his index card, and found there was one question left. He read and answered it hastily, " _How do you feel after everything that's happened?_ I'm just ready to put the past behind me and move on."

Satisfied, the mic retracted into the ceiling and the door across the room unlocked. But Fear did not leave. As much as he wanted to check on Riley, he knew she was just having a boring television day at home. He wasn't needed when she watched her cartoon programs.

Sighing, Fear laid back against his bed, and shut his eyes. Soon, the seeds he planted would bear fruit. He just needed to see whether they'd bear sweet, succulent grapes, or rotten apples.

* * *

"Fear, what the HELL did you do!?"

Fear shrieked awake, and scrambled into a sitting position so he was facing the two Emotions standing in the middle of his room. Disgust had her arms crossed, as usual. Anger was huffing, crumpling a newspaper in his hand. "H-Hello, Anger." He smiled sheepishly. "Disgust. What's up?" Hands wringing together, Fear's eyes swiveled over to where the clock was on his nightstand. It read three o' clock. An hour had passed.

"'What's up'!? 'WHAT'S UP'!?" Anger bristled, his particles sizzling like oil on a hot pan. "Your head up your own ass, that's what's up! What were you _thinking_?"

If he wasn't so afraid, Fear would have blown up in rage. "What are you guys talking about?" he cried, shaking. "I took the fall! Now no one thinks your the bad guys, right?!"

"Yeah, exactly!" Disgust spoke as if it were obvious. "That's the problem, you ding-dong! We thought you'd get the idea that we weren't going to give away any detail on what happened. That's _our_ mistake. Would have been much easier if you just shut your trap for once, too. But we have no reason to broadcast our mistake, and everybody out _there_ ," she pointed to some random spot over Fear's shoulder, "they don't have any right to know what happened!"

Fear felt his stomach do a backflip or two. How dare they, he ruined his reputation for them and they aren't even thankful!? Fear's face exploded into scowl, and he actually lunged forward onto his hands and knees, so he was staring down at the two Emotions like a starved predator poised to strike. "I took the blame!" he shouted. "I told them a lie!" He pulled back into a kneeling position. "I mean, come on! How come you guys always find a way to be mad at me no matter what I do? It's over, you're completely off the hook, and you should...! Should...!" _Be thanking me,_ he meant to say, but Fear did not have the courage to say something so egotistical.

Anger, though slightly taken aback by Fear's little bout of fury, stepped forward again, scowling once more. "Exactly!" he growled. "You told everybody that it was all your idea, _and_ that you tried to quit!"

"Under entirely different circumstances!" Disgust added.

"Now everybody thinks that that's what happened, and they _hate_ you for something _we_ did!"

Fear opened his mouth to argue once more, but just as he moved to speak the meaning of Anger's words suddenly hit him. They hit him like an Anger-punch to the gut, and looking to each of his coworkers, Fear was able to notice the little nuances in the way they held themselves at that moment.

Anger was still bristling and snarling and scowling and spitting, but looking into his eyes, with his brow quirked in a _very_ not-angry way, Fear noticed a small flicker of...confusion? Bewilderment?

 _Is he...trying to understand why I took the fall for them?_ It was almost to good to be true. But when Fear looked to Disgust and found much of the same, along with how tightly folded her arms were against her chest, his suspicions were correct.

Fear's face softened, and he looked to his coworkers under a much kinder gaze than before. "It just felt right," he explained, then with a nervous laugh, he said, "I mean, I didn't even want to think about what you'd do to me if I actually told the truth! But if I did, then, well, it would really hurt you guys." He frowned, felt his single hair droop down, tickling the back of his neck. "I didn't want to hurt you guys like that, no matter how much you...you..." his eyes squeezed shut, unable to look at them, "... _deserve_ it. And I really don't care if they all hate me, because they're not the ones I'm going to be seeing every day for the rest of my life. So...please, just accept that I did what I felt was right, so _please-don't-hit-me-or-yell_ ," he concluded in a rapid slur of words.

When only silence reigned, Fear actually thought they obeyed his pleas. So he made the mistake of opening his eyes again, and what he was met with made him want to crawl under the covers and never come out:

Shock, appreciation, _regret._ These were things Fear never expected to see from those two.

Anger, his lips parted slightly, fingers lax, with the crumpled-up newspaper threatening to fall from his grasp. The top of his head was cold as a frozen stone.

Disgust, one hand hanging, the other moving up to her hip and down again as if struggling to remain secure there. Her face was soft and full of shame, brows wrinkled in sympathy. And Fear wouldn't lie, her beauty really shined when it wasn't twisted by a disgusted snarl.

"Um," the low rumble broke through the pressing tranquility. Both sets of eyes were on Anger as he refused to meet either of them, keeping them planted on the floor as he coughed into his fist and said, "I'll, uh, I'll see you later, Fear. Don't stay in here too long." That sounded far more forced than it should have, but to Fear, he never even dreamed of hearing such words from anger-incarnate. The short firebrick waddled out of his room, Disgust wordlessly trailing behind.

She turned to shut the door behind her, and when she did, looked at Fear still sitting on his bed. She offered a weak smile, and said in a very reserved, un-Disgust-like tone, "Bye, Fear."

The door had been closed for five seconds before Fear answered, "...Bye?"

In that moment, Joy's words rang in his mind: _Everything is different now._ Whether or not that's a good thing, remained to be seen.

* * *

 **This is chapter 1 of 2/3. Still haven't decided. Hope you enjoyed the set up! Tell me what you think in a review, should you choose to leave one.**

 **This ship is so damn cute by the way. There also might be some good ol' "Sadness/Joy friendshipping" on the sidelines.**


	2. A Family Fractured

**Changed the cover art to something more moody that fit the tone of the story. The absolutely adorable original art was by user OhItsAubrey**

* * *

 **Eleven Years Ago**

 _When he opened his eyes, an encroaching darkness hugged him, faceless and unknown. He let out with a piercing shriek, and shivered as it echoed sharply throughout the vast emptiness surrounding him. His eyes darted about, trying to find a source of light; any kind, just something that had a form he could see. What was quickly founded peaked his own curiosity: an interesting structure nearby, lined with a metal track that looped and twirled and, through a series of floral-shaped whirligigs, led to a series of shelves housing blue and golden marbles. He padded over to examine them, occasionally looking back as he got closer and closer to the safety of the gorgeous little lights, afraid of something that would come out to grab and drag him back into the darkness._

 _As he got closer, he noticed that each orb held some sort of image within, the focus of each all being a little, squirming, pink creature, not at all like him in shape or stature. The thing was strange, almost alien in a way, but somehow, he was not unnerved by the strange being. In fact, he felt somewhat calm looking at it, as it giggled or cried in each orb, depending on the color, for some silly reason._

 _But what else was there to this realm? He slowly crept along the metal track, rubbing his hands together. Because clearly, someone already claimed this place as their domain. And in a place as horrible and dark such as this, this someone was probably so very scary. A swarm of bad feelings agitated his insides as his anxiety grew. Then, when he reached the end marked by a giant flower-shaped spinner, Fear saw it, and shrieked in fright: An enormous, giant, THING loomed before him, a device image not unlike the far smaller ones in the shelves, as it displayed moving images but of an endless line of fluffy white creatures with black faces hopping over a fence. What was this mysterious and strange new world? Where was he? WHO was he? And why was he here?!_

 _Then, through the blackness, a loud and chipper voice scared the living crap out of him. "Wo-hao! A new guy!"_

 _"GAH!" he screamed, before dropping down into a curled ball-form._

 _He heard a giddy set of footfalls skid to a stop in front of him, and a bright glow radiating from this assailant attacked his eyes. He squeezed them shut tighter and buried his head in his knees. "Please!" came his voice, hearing its shrill and nervous tremble for the first time. "Please don't hurt me!"_

 _"Aw, don't be scared!" said the chipper voice. "There's nothing to fear from us!" Fear? He liked the sound of that. "I'm just Joy! And this is Sadness."_

 _"Hello."_

 _A second voice was most unexpected. "GAH-HAH!" Fear shrieked, leaping up into the air in a flurry of noodly limbs. "DON'T DO THAT!"_

 _Now that he was forced out of his protective ball, Fear had to behold the two individuals of Joy and Sadness. He could easily tell who was whom by their appearance alone, and who the voice belonged to. That gloomy "hello" obviously came from the shorter girl, a pudgy blue thing with big round glasses and garbed in what Fear deemed were "comfy" clothes. The chipper voice must have come from the taller, smiley woman beside her, who glowed so bright she might as well have been a veritable star herself._

 _And she was barefoot._

 _That could be hazardous, Fear realized. But it seemed that Joy, given her demeanor and choice of clothes (as well as lack thereof in the foot department), she had not a care in the world._

 _"I'm sorry for scaring you like that," mumbled Sadness, eyes watery and cast to the floor. "I have a habit of being unnoticed by other people."_

 _Fear felt a twang of pity for this girl, but greater matters plagued his mind. "Wh-What is this place?" he asked, hands rubbing together. This, he briefly pondered, was a habit he needed to break soon (if he didn't die before then anyway). "Who are you? What are WE?"_

 _Within the next five minutes, Fear learned from these two girls about memory orbs (those glowy balls on the shelves), the Big Shiny Button in front of the screen, and that darling little creature Fear felt an odd sort of devotion towards when he saw her in the orbs. Her name was Riley, and it was Joy's duty to act as a sort of power source for her happiness._

 _Clearly, Joy always found something to be excited about, as, for some reason, she was happy to see this random intruder that popped into existence within her domain. Though Fear found her optimism charming, albeit a tad naive, as blissful ignorance can be a life-threatening personality trait, it would have quickly grown wearisome if Sadness's gloomy and down-to-Earth mopiness wasn't present to balance it out. She, at least, took things slow and steadily, which was a sharp contrast to Joy's bubbly and enthusiastic approach to everything that came her way. However,_ _Sadness's purpose in Riley's life was much less grand or meaningful than Joy's, as she only made the girl cry._

 _Fear didn't understand why that would ever be useful, but, despite only being a couple minutes old, he prided himself as being a rational and wise individual, and assumed he would understand the "point" of crying in due time._

 _That brought forth another question from him. "Then... why am I here?"_

 _Joy rubbed her chin in thought. "Hmm, that's a good question. I didn't even know there was supposed to be more of us!"_

 _More!? Fear shuddered at the thought. The image of more than just the three of them living together in this scary-dark place put his nerves on edge. Here's hoping the others will be as pleasant and helpful as these two were._

 _Suddenly, a cooing moan shuddered across the darkness around them, and Fear gasped in unexpected terror. "What was that!?" he hissed, biting his fingers._

 _Joy looked over to the right, at the giant monitor leering over the Big Shiny Button. "Riley's awake," she said, smiling broadly as she skipped her way to the console. Sadness followed, but Fear stayed rooted in place, feeling safer with watching the screen from afar. It was no longer a looping image of white fluffs vaulting a fence, but instead, of a ceiling darkened with shadows, and a mobile hanging overhead several orbs of colors called "planets," had taken over. It spun lazily in the din._

 _It was an unsettling sight for Fear, there were so many new and strange things to take in at once. Only when Joy looked back and excitedly waved him over, did he join the pair._

 _"What is this?" he asked._

 _"It's the middle of the night," explained Sadness. "Something must have woken Riley up. Probably a shadow or a noise."_

 _Fear sensed needles prickled his lower back. "Y-You don't k-know?" he shuddered. "Where are the parents you told me about?"_

 _"Probably asleep in their room," said Joy, still grinning. "This is cool though! We're finally alone, and we can do whatever we want!"_

 _Was this fairy-thing insane!? "Something woke Riley up and you don't even care what it is?"_

 _Joy's face fell. "Uh... Well... I-I guess, when you put it that way-"_

 _She didn't get a chance to finish; driven by purely frantic energy Fear threw himself on top of the button and pressed both hands on it, pushing it down dozens of times in rapid succession and never taking his massive eyes off the screen. Though it seemed like he knew what he was doing, in truth he was unsure of what it would do, but hoped the Big Shiny Button will somehow alert Mom and Dad that their child needed attention._

 _From the monitor, Riley let out a loud whine, trailing off into a couple nervous whimpers. Fear tensed at a pair of hands gripping him gently by the shoulders, and pulling him away from the Big Shiny Button. "O-kay, Fear," said Joy, straining to sound patient as Fear madly struggled against her, "you don't need to make Riley scream and be unhappy. One of us has already got that covered." Fear_

 _"Wait, Joy, look!" Sadness pointed at the monitor, and both Fear and Joy quit their squabbling and directed their attention towards it._

 _Mom rushed into her daughter's vision, a concerned look on her face, despite her bedclothes looking ragged and her hair a tangled mess. "Oh, Riley baby, what's wrong?" cooed Mom, plucking Riley from her crib. She bounced her in her arms a little, shushing as Riley's moans slowly died down at the rate Fear of moving his fingers away from the console._

 _Mom hummed a little, and smiled tiredly down on Riley. "You've nothing to be afraid of, little monkey," she said. "We'll always be here for you."_

 _Fear stared dumbly, entranced by the whole display the moment Mom first came into the room at the sound of her daughter's cries of terror, so much so the he didn't even notice Joy had released him and was giving an apologetic look. Those last words especially rang loud in Fear's nonexistent ear-holes:_

 _'I'll keep you safe, Riley,' he thought. 'I'll keep you safe from all the scary things in the world. I promise.'_

* * *

 **Eleven Years Later; Six Days after Incident**

Fear woke up screaming and tangled in his bedsheets. He fought and writhed against his binds, the lingering dredges of sleep tricking him into believing they were restraints to his person. When Fear awakened fully, his button-down cotton pajama shirt and pants were drenched in the sweat of his night terrors. He groaned when his wits returned to him, cringing at their cloying sogginess.

Nightmares were every night of Fear's life. They were why he had numerous sets of pajamas, and clouds imported from Imagination Land covering his walls, so they would muffle his shrieks and not disturb his coworkers. They were why he had a tea kettle on his bedside, so he could have a warm, soothing cup of chamomile that would help return him to slumber the three-four times he awoke during the night.

But this particular nightmare bothered Fear. No, no, it didn't _scare_ him, it was just a dream after all, as both Joy and Anger (in their own special ways) had made it clear that dreams aren't real and couldn't hurt him. But this one in particular really frayed his nerves and sent him over the edge, to where he couldn't help but find their images bloodcurdling.

Even in the "Awake World" he could still hear her voice. _Why didn't you protect me?_ she moaned, in some dingy Minnesota alley that smelled of filth and degeneracy. _You could have stopped this, you coward._ The sickness ailing had taken away her strength, and rendered her voice a faint whisper. Fear, in the nightmare, didn't know what to do, except hold her to his chest and clutch her hand in his. It made no sense, as most fantasies didn't, but the weight of his failure literally sagging in his arms, dead and grey, was all too real a fear of his already. To see it manifest as something that felt as real as a nightmare, it rendered sleep in of itself as yet another thing to be afraid of.

Fear sat in his bed, remembering the way she smiled and laughed. It took a minute of convincing himself that Riley still smiled and laughed, and what happened in the nightmare was simply that, a nightmare, before Fear's breathing returned to normal, and his nonexistent heart slowed to the usual tempo of ninety beats per minute. Then he locked the nightmare away into a dark corner of his mind, knowing but ignoring its inevitable return later that night.

 _Or maybe not,_ he thought, getting out of bed and unbuttoning his shirt. _Dream duty tonight._ Never in his life did Fear think he would be happy to have dream duty, until after the Incident of course. In his mind, Joy's words echoed truer than ever.

* * *

 _Another day at the office._

That's the thought Fear always had, every day when he would wake up and emerge from the Emotions' shared living quarters, and from the top of the ramp he would briefly survey the rest of his coworkers going about their morning routine as Riley did her's. Yet, not too long ago, Fear would quietly echo the thought in his head with a bit of satisfaction, a content feeling that what he and his friends had was something to take small amounts of joy in. After all, it was Happiness Incarnate who always chirped, _"It's the little things in life that makes the world go round!"_

Fear would see Anger reading his paper with Sadness sitting on the couch, Disgust putting on makeup and Joy bouncing at the controls. It would be yet another typical day in the life of Riley Andersen, and for that, Fear has founded no greater pleasure.

But now, he saw Anger plopped down on the couch, no copy of _The Mind Reader_ in sight, bitter and cranky, tired, with his mouth twisted in a grimace and dark rings underneath his eyes. Fear made a mental note to stay out of his way today. And probably until the end of time, just to be safe. Disgust, for once, did not have her nose in a makeup kit, and was standing by herself near the window overlooking the Islands of Personality, arms folded to her chest. Only Joy and Sadness seemed to be doing their jobs, standing by the console, but closer inspection revealed to Fear that such a thing was just too fantastical to be true:

"Joy," mumbled Sadness, her somber drawl carrying throughout the vast hollowness of Headquarters, "Mom got us a box of 'Frosted Corn Flakes' for breakfast. That's Riley's favorite."

"I dunno, Sadness," said Joy, placing a hand to her chin like she were pondering a life or death situation. "I mean, it still _is_ Riley's favorite cereal, I mean, she's pouring herself a bowl right now." She gestured to the screen, where, Riley was, in fact, pouring herself a bowl of those sugar-coated cavity flakes. "But am I _really_ needed? Does Riley have to be super stoked to eat this cereal? I mean, c'mon, Sadness, it's cereal." She pressed a single button, just to make Riley gain some satisfaction, then chuckled to herself.

"Are you alright, Joy?" asked Sadness.

"Great! Why?" Joy smiled down at her, hands clasped behind her yellow dress. From where Fear stood, it looked genuine. Then again, he wasn't standing very close.

"You just seem a little upset and out of sorts today. Do you want to talk again?"

She offered a hand, and a glance to the couch, but Joy just brushed it away with a flick of her hand. "Aw, c'mon Sadness! It's cereal! I'm fine, really! I've been fine the past two days, just stop worrying yourself over me." She ended with a wink, and a friendly pat on the back to Sadness.

"Alright," Sadness said at once. No pressing, no argument. If you wanted to talk, Sadness let it come naturally. She never tried grilling someone for a confession.

 _Maybe that's part of the problem,_ Fear thought, eyeing Joy. He felt like sighing, but couldn't muster the energy to even do that. _Another day at the office._ He went to go craft himself a mug of Morning Joe.

As he stood in the kitchen, pouring his coffee, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. The waste bin sitting by his leg was full of letters, unopened. Fear's mind flooded with flashes of all the love Sadness had gotten, and the hate that Joy endured. Unable to resist the pull of curiosity, he carefully picked through the trash. Several letters were addressed to him. Fear did not need his imagination to picture what they all said.

He took every single one, folded them into a stack with one of many rubber bands he always carried, and tucked them into his pocket.

When he stepped out of the kitchen, everybody else was at the console. Fear silently took his place at the end of their old work station beside Disgust. No one seemed to acknowledge his presence. Up on the screen, Riley spooned cereal into her mouth, occasionally putting her silverware down to take a sip of orange juice. At the same time, Fear sipped his coffee, savoring its earthy-creamy taste.

 _The perfect pick-me-up,_ he thought, content.

From the corner of his eye, his teammates all stood at their stations.

 _Clang,_ Riley's spoon twanged lightly against the porcelain bowl.

Not doing anything.

 _Clang._

Just watching Riley.

 _Clang._

And none of them were smiling.

 _Clang._

It dawned on Fear, and he couldn't resist the painful urge to cringe: they were all standing in a dreaded awkward silence. His heart twisted and churned to what it said, yet he lacked the nerve to break it. Some small, sad part of him wanted to see how long this would last.

Not for long, however, as Joy seemed to take notice as well, and she always liked to make noise when none was happening. "So! How did everybody sleep?" Fear finally did cringe, at the forced pep in her tone.

"Good," answered Sadness.

Anger's voice was lower than it has ever been. "Fine."

Disgust flipped her hair, seemingly the only one still in character. "Like a baby."

Fear had the sneaking suspicion that everybody was lying, so he simply said, "As well as everybody else," and reveled pathetically in his cleverness.

Joy smiled. "Great! Now, let's get ready for another fun-tabulous day!" She pumped her fists in the air. No one ever mimicked her, though on occasion Fear would attempt to, but he could never even come close to matching her energy.

Today was one of the days he didn't try, which would be normal on a typical morning, but there was an underlying layer of tension hovering over everybody's head that just seemed to grow denser the more Joy tried to worm her way into it.

Fear looked down at his hands, and noticed the liquid in his mug shivering from his trembling hand. He took a sip of coffee. It was going to be a long day.

"So, Fear, that sure was a lot to get off your chest!"

A really, long, day. "Huh? What?" Fear asked dumbly, hoping by some unlikely miracle that Joy was referring to something else.

"Your interview with _The Mind Reader!"_ she said. Joy put on a wry smile. "So it was you who gave Riley that idea, right?"

Fear's stomach plummeted into the Memory Dump and his own Train of Thought gleefully posed to join it. He had no idea whether Joy was trying to rub it in, or she was just making conversation. Fear instantly deemed that a ridiculous thought; _anything_ regarding the unfortunate Incident will never simply be just mere "conversation." It was just one of those ugly, unspoken rules that leered over everybody's mind, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

After all, Riley was, for all intents and purposes, her baby girl, and from Joy's perspective it was Fear who almost ruined her life. But does she believe that? Does she still care? It was distressing to no end, how unreadable Joy could be at times. It drove Fear up a wall, and worse, he never even thought of how Joy would react to his false revelations on that stupid _Mind Reader_ interview. He was so concerned with what Disgust and Anger would do to him.

That, he felt, was unfair and mean to Joy.

At the opposite end of the console, Anger was leaning over and looking to him with widened eyes. In front of Fear, right in his face with her back to everybody else, was Disgust. Her arms were folded, probably for appearance's sake, some sane part of his frazzled mind chimed in, yet her face that only he could see shared the likeness of curdled milk.

"Uh..." He tried looking above her, past her head, Sadness's, and into Joy's eyes, but his gaze kept falling onto that soft, anxiety and makeup-laden face. _She deserves to know the truth,_ said one part of his mind, countered by another, _But do you want Joy to be mad at Disgust and Anger?_

He blinked to himself. _That's ludicrous, Joy can't be angry._ It was sound logic, and Fear felt a sort of obligation, a duty, to disclose the truth with his closest friend, his _first_ friend. The one who was his veritable boss, for crying out loud! Yet, in spite of that, Fear's mind wandered back to the night before, how Anger didn't punch his lights out, and Disgust actually seemed genuinely grateful for his discretion.

In that instant his mind was set: he wanted more of that. Selfishness won out and Fear never looked back. "You're... not mad about it?" he replied, making sure to sound uneasy, so as to cover up for his hesitance to answer.

Joy let out a "pssht" and waved her hand in dismissal. "Aw, c'mon, Fear! I thought that was _great_ , you trying to make Riley happy in case I never made it back to Headquarters." Joy gave an animated shrug. "Yeah, sure, a bit hair-brained and, no offense, heh, not your best idea, but hey! We were all a _bit_ under pressure with everything going on, am I right?" No one replied, not that Joy cared. Then she took a step back and gestured to Disgust and Anger. "And you two! You guys are so sweet, keeping silent to protect Fear. You guys are such great friends!" Disgust and Anger nodded, the former uneasily and the latter hollow as a ghoul. Joy skipped over and slung an arm around Fear's shoulders. He squeaked as she pulled him close, his cheek squashing against her's. "Who knew our own resident worrywart could be so brave though! Am I right?!"

Anger nodded, grinning toothily. "Uh, yeah, he's..." the brick rubbed the back of his head, and cast his gaze to the floor. "...quite the guy." He refused to meet Fear's eyes for the rest of the day.

Disgust had her back to him, as she was facing Joy, but the nerve had a feeling she briefly shot Anger one of her typical, "Did you really just say that?" looks she normally sent in Fear's direction whenever he said something awkward or dumb. But when Joy beamed in her direction, Disgust did what Fear expected her to and gave her best, lazy shrug. "Eh, it's whatever. Those _Mind Reader_ guys shouldn't have expected us to _squeal_ on one another like a couple of backstabbers."

Fear wondered if that was a discreet bout of gratitude from her to him, or a warning. The unknown prickled him crazy. "So, Fear," Joy clasped her hands behind her back, "when you gave Riley the idea to run away, was it you who also made her steal Mom's credit card? Didn't think you had it in you!"

Fear blanked. Not even _The Mind Reader_ asked him about that. He should have known it would come up soon, but hoped in at least a couple more days when Mom and Dad finally confronted Riley about it first. His eyes flitted briefly across the console to Anger, where the Emotion's eyes were staring blankly at the buttons glowering in front of him.

"Uh..."

"Ooh! Ooh! Tell me about Honesty Island, because Anger's interview never told us how _that_ one fell apart! I want to heart it!"

Fear's particles began to frizzle. "Well, when that happened, I..." His words died in his throat, he just couldn't take his eyes off Joy's smile. It didn't look right. It wasn't a "Joy Smile," bright and excited, it was a thin smile, an impatient one, the kind she always used to wear whenever she was dealing with Sadness. For the first time ever, Fear was actually a little bit unnerved by Joy.

Well, second time ever. But that was eleven years ago. He didn't even have the mind to ponder why Joy was more interested in catechizing him about this than focusing on Riley. He needed to answer. "Well, ah, Joy, when Honesty Island fell apart, Riley-"

"Hey, here's an idea!" came a gravelly voice. Fear sighed in relief as everyone turned and saw Anger waddling over, carrying in his hands a purple and gold-colored memory orb, one of those new "mixed memories" that have been springing up over the last couple days. Fear looked at its swirling colors of his own and Joy's, and felt a stab of guilt in his stomach. He washed it down with more coffee.

Anger handed the orb to Joy for inspection. "How about we ask Mom or Dad if we can take that Alcatraz tour?" he suggested.

And on a dime it was like old times again:

"Ooh, that sounds awesome!" Joy bounced on her heels, eyeing the orb.

Fear thought about it and shivered. "Gee, I hope there are no ghosts!"

"Or cobwebs," Disgust muttered, shivering herself.

"The boat will probably sink and we'll all die," Sadness moaned.

"Aw, c'mon guys! It'll be fun!" said Joy.

Disgust let one arm slack at her side, and nodded. "Yeah, it would be actually."

"As long as we stay with the group," said Fear, though he knew Riley would go off exploring, Goofball Island flaring brightly.

Joy turned the orb in her hands, still looking into it. "Yeah, this sounds fun."

No one spoke another word, and after replaying the little exchange inside his head, Fear suddenly felt lightheaded and very, very dizzy, feeling another feinting episode was coming on. _Talk about deja vu... When was the last time something normal happened? Over a week ago?_

And it seemed the rest felt the exact same way; a hesitant, almost worried look briefly crossed everybody's face.

"Yeah, this looks great!" Joy insisted, holding up the twin-colored orb. "Spooky and fun, a whole day to take our mind off things!"

Silence again. Fear felt his stomach hollowing. _'To take our mind off things,' she said. Joy's not stupid. She knows we're all jacked up, and yet..._

 _...yet no one wants to say it out loud. Should I?_

He thought for a nanosecond. Fear took a sip of coffee.

 _It's going to be a long day, another day at the office._

* * *

 **I really wanted to write more, but this chapter has gotten long enough as it is (almost 4,000 words). This one was honestly a pain, because I really had no idea what to write after Fear got out of bed. Luckily, that means (hopefully) nothing's blocking me from writing the next chapter, when Fear has Dream Duty and he finally starts interacting with Disgust.**

 **Thanks to everybody who gave this a favorite and review! I know this story is going to gain quite a bit of notice. Please tell what you thought in a nice, long review.**


	3. Pomp and Circumstance

**Sorry this took monstrously long to get up. This chapter is almost 8,000 words, so I hope it makes up for it.**

 **And yes, you read that right. KQSimply, author of Subconscious and Passing On, two fics I highly recommend you read, has joined me in tackling this beast of a story. Those of you familiar with her work knows she's damn good at writing gorgeous descriptions, feel-good interactions, and torturing Fear.**

 **This story would be a mess without her! So I hope you enjoy what we put together**

 **-TOAO1993**

* * *

"Well, _that_ was a friggin' disaster _._ "

Fear, Disgust, Joy and Sadness exchanged looks weary and pitiful. Not one of them said even a word as Anger stomped up the ramp, fists clenched at his sides. The door slamming beat against the hollow emptiness of Headquarters.

"'Goodnight' to you too," Disgust muttered.

Fear laid a grievous sigh into his hand. The lights were dimming; a darkness filled Headquarters. Dream Duty couldn't have come sooner.

"I-I'm sorry everyone," Sadness mumbled through the collar of her cable-knit sweater.

Fear watched from the corner of his eye, hands rubbing together guiltily. Joy gripped Sadness by the shoulder, and lowered herself into a squat. "It's not your fault Sadness, honestly." She stole a glance over her shoulder, at their console. "I think we should just call Maintenance, have them take a look at the old girl."

But Sadness did not seem to hear. She hugged herself, shivering violently. "He _hates_ me now, even more than before..."

Joy waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh please," she snickered, "Anger doesn't _hate_ you, he just..."

"...Hates how Riley kept rejecting his commands?" Disgust cut in. Everyone turned to her; though she appeared as her usual petulant self, Fear at least noticed the way she guarded herself, the extra steeliness in her gaze as if daring someone to talk back; it was the same look she had when ganging up on him with Anger after the _Mind Reader_ interview. "Please Sadness, don't pity yourself over something you couldn't control. It's unbecoming and just... uncool."

Sadness matched her gaze. "But he was still hurt by _Riley._ Sh-She even..." Sadness trailed off, the memory too frightening to recall aloud.

But in his own thoughts, Fear still heard Anger yowl when the console electrocuted him on his fourth attempt at driving, his fourth failure.

First, a cloying mugginess shrouded San Francisco, rendering her hoodie unbearable to wear. Then the water was choppy, making the boat rock and smack Riley in the mouth when she was leaning against the rail. Riley even forgot her phone at home, though Fear was quick to take the blame for that one. Anger, thankfully, directed his frustration entirely on the console, most like out of some veiled thanks for the business concerning _The Mind Reader_.

Yet every time he tried channeling his rage, the console gave no response, and neither did Riley. Giving him a pitying look, Sadness took the controls following each instance of failure, making Riley somber and heavy-hearted than enraged at the inconveniences of life. Not quietly, but sparing the pudgy Emote's feelings, Anger let it be known he took no pleasure in seeing his girl so meek.

But the worst part of the day was when someone aggressively pushed past Riley while she maneuvered a crowd, knocking the book Mom just bought for her into the ocean. The historical accounting of Alcatraz's most infamous convicts was swallowed by the dark waters.

That man didn't even say sorry for ruining it – he just kept on walking like his pants were aflame. Anger was furious. The people back home were at least courteous. _"This never would have happened in Minnesota!"_ he roared, and Fear was inclined to agree, though from several feet away of the brick's wrath. When the two levers Anger personally used for his outbursts wouldn't budge however, he bared his teeth, and his irritation with their work station finally erupted.

 _"WHAT'S WITH THIS STUPID THING!?"_ He brought both fists down upon the device. In a flash of blinding cyan, and a roar of pain, Anger threw himself aside, clutching fingers smoldered black.

The console writhed with electricity, lashing out at the red Emote with the tangled, brittle arms of a some formless beast. Hissing and snarling with sparks snapping, it dared Anger to try driving again. The noises it made were horrible, and the sight made Fear shriek and hide behind Joy, who stood petrified. The sharp cyan danced in each of their eyes.

Anger frantically shuffled back, massaging his burnt fingers, a haunted eye trained on the console that would be more appropriate on Fear's expression. In what looked like a burst of madness, Sadness rushed towards the thunderstorm before Joy could reaffirm her grip on the the scruff of her sweater.

The discharge smothered beneath Sadness's palms as they laid across the console, a thick blue tint swallowing the console's weak ruddy glow. Riley shed a few tears before rising slowly to her feet and resuming her walk back to her parents, albeit at a slower pace and with a heavier heart. Dad thankfully bought Riley another copy, but what of Joy she felt last time was overcome by Sadness, her melancholy glow long lingering on the console, birthing another blue and gold memory.

All eyes went back to Anger huddled up on the couch, staring darkly at the console with his lips hardened in a tight grimace.

It was the fourth time this afternoon such an event happened. But the console responding to Anger's persistent finger with open hostility, told the firebrick that Riley didn't want him today. Disgust fared no better. She tried driving only once, when a seagull shat dangerously close to Riley. She frantically drummed on every green button she could find on the console, all while trying not to vomit herself when Riley saw the white splatter hit the pavement right beside her foot.

Riley regarded it with a frown, before bringing her gaze back to the ocean ahead. She took one step to the side.

Disgust gave the console a look as though it were coated in slime before joining Anger on the sofa. Neither spoke for the rest of the day.

 _I hope they're not mad at Riley,_ Fear prayed. _Or us._ The console worked just fine for him and Joy.

And Sadness. Of course.

Despite the inconveniences, Riley still enjoyed the tour with her parents, felt dread hearing the stories of Al Capone, the Birdman, and the famous escape from Alcatraz. Beyond Sadness assuming command from Anger and Disgust, she pitied the dilapidated place that was once an amazing landmark of mid-twentieth century America.

"She... _rejected_ him," Sadness mumbled. Her voice trembled with fear and grief. When Fear looked over, Joy was seated, a comforting arm around her shoulders as Sadness hugged herself. "Why is this happening, Joy? How come Riley hates Anger?" The teardrop began to weep, and she buried herself underneath Joy's chin.

"No, no, no," the star cooed, rubbing her back. To the softness of her voice, Fear's brows rose; he never heard Joy speak so gently. "No, Sadness, she doesn't hate Anger. That's just silly. She's still got a lot to work through about San Francisco." She pulled away, as did Sadness. The teardrop's face was runny, and her eyes ruddy. "Trust me Sadness, Riley _needs_ Anger just as much as she needs all of us. She just can't _not_ be angry for the rest of her life. It'll take an _itty bit_ of time for her to get back into the swing of things. But you're good, I'm good, we're all good!"

Fear almost snorted. When his gaze lazily drifted upward, he caught at the last instance the second of Disgust's feet slip quietly behind the door to their living complex. Fear couldn't bring himself to really care.

 _'Goodnight' to you too_.

"So, are you gonna be alright, Sadness?"

Fear returned to the pair, ignoring the sense of awkwardness from eavesdropping on their conversation as Sadness sniffled and knuckled one eye beneath her glasses. She nodded meekly.

Joy punched her lightly on the shoulder. "Thatta girl. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sadness opened her mouth, but Joy was on her feet and walking away before she could get a word out. With surprise, Fear noticed the way she moved, the hastiness in her step, lacking its bouncy gait. Rapid footfalls brought her across Headquarters faster than any cartwheel or twirl ever could, and her stepping on the button beside the Recall Tube seemed accidental, as she didn't even stick around for the light show of the day's memories falling into Long Term. She hasn't done so since returning from her adventure.

Shadows crept back into Headquarters as Joy vanished into their living complex. Sadness trudged up the ramp after her. If she noticed like Fear did, her somber lamb's eyes betrayed no hint of it as she gazed down on him. "Goodnight, Fear."

"'Night," he called back, fighting not to squirm beneath her stare. When the door clicked shut, Fear finally let his shoulders stoop, and a breath echo breezily throughout Headquarters.

Another glorious day in "San Fran-Stink-Town" drawn to a close.

"Time to make some coffee," Fear muttered while arching his back. _Finally,_ he thought as he traveled to the kitchen. _A night to myself with no nightmares or... the others._ Fear banished the thought. He didn't want to think about the others. They were asleep, out of the way for the next eight or so hours. Now is the time for coffee, himself, and whatever drudgery the Dream Productions crew contrived for tonight.

Fear emerged from the kitchen minutes later, smiling blissfully as he took in the scent of the roasted coffee wrapped around his fingers. He stopped by the window, looking out into Long Term Memory, the lustrous glow of which unfettered by Riley's Islands of Personality.

Fear whimpered into his mug before taking a sip.

The near-total collapse of Riley's personality very nearly _destroyed_ her. If Joy and Sadness hadn't come back in time…

Now only Family Island remained, and for that, Fear was grateful. _At least we didn't screw up that badly._ The love of her family was the only thing Riley had left, the only thing keeping her from being turning into some vacuous husk. The one link to her old life in Minnesota.

Another sip to calm the shaking.

 _One Island's not good enough,_ thought Fear, a chill gripping his spine. _Even one as huge as this. What if something happens to it? What if we lose the Core Memory again?_ He took another sip of coffee, but it was comparable to a flea bite against his innermost terrors. _Please make more Core Memories,_ Fear prayed. _Please, please, please..._ He gazed into Family Island, his chest feeling like something was trying to worm its way through. The Golden Gate bridge, the silhouettes of the Andersens embracing, in much the same, solemn way they did when Riley collapsed into tears willed by Sadness. It was a disquieting evening, Fear squirmed to recall. The three who were left with protecting their girl, the three who always had so much to say about this and that, found themselves struggling to find those same individuals. What _could_ be said, to Sadness? To Joy? How should they even feel about the brutally short three minutes that transpired?

Suddenly, the sight of Family Island became too much, and inevitably Fear whirled around, marching to the screen still a fuzzy grey snow as Dream Productions struggled to make a connection.

He took a sip of coffee, to calm his chest and placate the worming still persisting. Warmth spread in his breast. He flexed the fingers of his other hand, feeling still the phantom pressure of Joy's warm hand over his when they both maneuvered about the console today. Her stippled flesh were the warmest rays of a Minnesota summer. Fear shivered to their touch.

The unwanted shudders loosened his grip on the mug, sending it clattering thunderously to the floor. He smothered a gasp with both hands, afraid that he made a mess or woke the others. He just couldn't deal with the others now, Sadness and the way she exuded guilt like the black plague, Joy's passive-aggressive behavior, Anger and Disgust especially. But when no sounds of feet pattering upstairs came, and he realized the mug had long since been empty, Fear permitted a sigh of ease.

He ran his hands from his mouth, down his face, shoulders, arms, stomach, stopping when he reached his pants pockets, and the bulk inside one of them.

 _The letters,_ he recalled with a start. Of course, the letters, the fan mail from that awful _Mind Reader_ interview. Fear frantically pulled them from his pocket, tore the rubber band off and flung it somewhere by the shelves. Though crinkled and worn from being stuffed in a closed space all day, he could easily make out his own name. He padded over to the sofa he flipped through them all, and sure enough, it was on every single one. He counted about twenty one in his haste.

A familiar ditty on the harp strummed before him. Fear's eyes flickered upward, where the sky was thick with thunderclouds, and the dark waters the boat road upon crashed against its sides. Riley gazed downward, the chain between her fists pulled taut when she yanked them apart.

A pair of polished black boots entered her vision. When Riley gazed up, an officer glared at her from under the brim of his cap. "Criminal scum," he spat.

With all the woe and grim an eleven-year-old could muster, Riley growled, "Bite me, copper."

The officer simply snarled back and went on to make his rounds, nightstick spinning between his fingers.

Fear snorted. Riley was at least having an original dream, and one that isn't incredibly scary. He dropped his gaze back to the letters in his hands, then smiled at the monitor. "I'll let you have this one, Riles."

Riley hocked a globule over the railing.

—

Fear did not know how long it had been since he started tearing into the letters, but Riley was the head of her own prison gang in Alcatraz when peeling open the fourth letter. Now she was the warden.

His eyes were sore and watery. "I really gotta stop rubbing them," he grumbled as he rubbed them. Fear was beastly tired, but he found it impossible to stop once he found himself over halfway through the pile by his hip.

"One more," he would tell himself. "One more, and then I'm throwing these away."

"I'll just get through this one, then stop."

"One more letter, and then I'll go make myself a cup of coffee."

But there was always another letter that would catch his eye, someone from Dream Productions, or a Forgetter of Long Term, a couple Imagination Land denizens. _I'll just take a peek,_ he'd tell himself. _Maybe this one won't be so nasty._ And then Fear would find himself halfway through another threat, another insult, another wish to have him removed from Headquarters. He became numb by letter five, and stopped caring after nine.

" _Why did someone as good as Bing Bong have to go instead of someone like you?"_ one kindly fan asked.

Fear shrugged, though he didn't know why. _Because cowards survive I suppose._

He would keep telling himself that these people didn't know him, didn't know the truth, yet even still Fear felt needles prickle his back every time someone called him a rat or a traitor.

Fear was reading someone's boasts that they could do a better job than him when he heard a door behind click shut.

Footsteps pattered down the stairs.

Fear would have cursed himself for yelping aloud, if there was time to spare. But his eyes were frozen on the mess strewn across his lap – the half-dozen or so crumpled letters, the torn envelopes scattered about the sofa on either side of him, the few letters still untouched. In a panic, Fear scrambled to assemble the mess into something manageable, his hands a whirlwind of violet as they grabbed at everything without heed, shoving them back into his pockets.

They were bulging with paper, and just only half of the mess had been absconded, when he heard, "Fear?"

The nerve froze, caught with both hands clutching letters, one about to jam itself in his pocket. Sighing inside, Fear dragged his gaze over to the right, where he found Disgust leaning against the sofa, giving him a perplexing look. He could feel the slow burn of her judgemental stare.

"What are you doing?"

Before he could even blurt out a kneejerk reaction of "nothing much," Disgust's extra sharp gaze fell upon a single letter he'd opened but had yet to read, and a chill raked its claws down his spine. It had been tucked so neatly against his thigh that he had missed it in his haste to collect the more obvious components of his mess. She reached out to seize the letter from its vulnerable place against his side, gingerly unfolding it to inspect its contents. He watched her critical eye skim left to right, left to right. He didn't expect to see her eyes widen. "Oh, Fear…"

He leaned over and plucked the page from between her delicate fingers, surprising her, and hugged it securely to his chest. "S-Sorry," Fear stuttered.

"Sorry for what, exactly?" Disgust uttered, glaring at him with rather dangerous eyes. "For the things they had to say about you? Or for nearly giving me a paper cut?" Fear shrunk, briefly considering inching forward to check her hand, but decided against it - not that she would've let him anyway, he was sure. "Why are you wasting your time, reading this junk?"

Disgust's harsh scolding made Fear's insides instinctively twist, even though he knew she was merely worried for him. _Or she's just berating me for being stupid, like always._ He might as well have been; thinking about it, Fear didn't even know why he was bothering to read them, why he plucked them out of the trash in the first place.

He thought of all the people from every corner of Riley's mind, and what they had to say about him. Nothing good, nothing but scorn, yet he willed himself to read over half the pile.

"I guess I was hoping that, maybe, someone understood what I... er, what you guys, Anger and yourself, had to do." He gave a humorless laugh. "Clearly, that isn't the case. But I thought it'd be worth it to, you know, double-check?"

Disgust paused, hearing his words, digesting them. Eventually she scoffed. "Then you're a bigger idiot than I thought." _Berating it is, then._ Fear knew it was too good to be true, yet somehow, her words stung more than anything those faceless mind workers had peddled his way. Hurt, Fear lowered his head, single hair dropping around his neck.

He watched Disgust walk away, her dress sashaying before coming to a stop before the panel, where Riley, up above, was digging a tunnel through Alcatraz with but a metal spoon. He had to imagine Disgust was cringing at all the dirt tangled in Riley's golden hair, her face unseen.

Fear gave a start when she suddenly spoke moments later, and his steady breathing pattern stopped dead in his chest at what she had to say: "I'm sorry I said that."

He felt the single hair atop his head curl. "You... You are?"

He hadn't meant to sound so aghast. The savage look she cast him next could have melted ice. "Yeah, I am! You're welcome, by the way!"

Fear stumbled into a panic. "S-sorry, sorry!" He waved his hands, urging her to calm. "I didn't mean anything by that. I _was_ thankful – just – I was just–"

An aggravated groan silenced his ramblings. "Just stop apologizing, okay? _Stop_." Fear blinked, closing his mouth, unsure of how to respond. He quietly watched Disgust make a slow amble back to the sofa, where she took a seat close beside him. Her hands folded in her lap, and her head hung low.

Fear gripped the edge of the cushions, trying to look beyond the green Emote's hair falling around her face without making it too obvious.

"I'm... I'm sorry, okay?" she told the floor. "About... everything. I'm sorry we're always so short with you. I know it isn't right–"

"But you do it anyway," he blurted out. Fear bit down on his tongue, wishing he could take back those words the minute they left his mouth. _Where did that come from?_ Fear had not the foggiest idea.

But it seemed that Disgust was more stunned than he was, as she stared ahead, eyes pointed at the console without, it seemed, actually seeing it.

He expected her to say a million things to him for snapping so petulantly. His name, however, was not one of them, and in a docile murmur, even less so. "Fear... I..."

He was startled to see tears. Then frightened to hear her voice shaking.

"Fear... am I a bad Emotion?"

Fear's entire demeanor shifted in time with the realization that Disgust's voice was breaking up as she spoke. Never before had it occurred to him that tears could so much as cross Disgust's tone – it was just so impossibly unsuitable, coming from the one emotion whose elegant confidence, by Fear's account, often rivaled that of Joy's seemingly endless ream of certainty. For an awkward beat he just sat there, dumbfounded by the subtle presence of grief that burdened them both with a painfully awkward silence.

Something – the clambering heat, perhaps, the discomfort frothing in the pit of his stomach – jostled him out of his stupor and his eyes fluttered at her in disbelief. "A bad emotion? _You?"_

"Yeah. Me."

Fear stopped himself from questioning her a second time – barely. Disgust, well – she wasn't the one who induced the maddening sensations of panic and despair. She wasn't the one who felt wracked with dread and horror ninety percent of the time. And she certainly hadn't been the one who nearly threw in the towel during Riley's darkest hour. It was almost hard to believe her question was serious. Or that she'd pose it in front of _him_ , of all the Emotions in Headquarters. But he supposed tears didn't throw themselves out there for the world to gawk at without a profound reason behind them. If Sadness had taught him anything…

"Jeeze, Disgust, of course you're not." It was the best he could do.

"Well." Disgust's hair fanned into the air as she rushed to face him; her irises, obscured by extravagant lashes held at half-mast, danced off into the distance, refusing to so much as look for his. Fear was fairly certain he was okay with this – her tearful performance was enough to make the rising heat of the room skyrocket. "Don't you sound totally sure of yourself for once."

"W-well, it's true. At least, I think so." And with that, he figured, there went all the credibility in his words. His thoughts and opinions never seemed to matter to anyone else before.

"You're just saying that," Disgust snapped. "You know as well as I do that I don't bring anything to the table but nausea. And who needs that? Like, for real. Tell me who."

"Riley, for one." An unusual sureness was climbing into Fear's tone. Either she was baiting him with questions that were too basic to be true for some reason, or else the course of the day had really messed around with her head. He couldn't have blamed her. It had, after all, been right up there with some of the worst days in Riley history. But he officially believed it must have had something more to do with the latter. Surely this was a trap of some sort. Surely he was walking right into the jaws of yet another cruel technique to emphasize his foolishness. But for whatever reason, he just kept walking.

To his one point, Disgust rolled her eyes. "Well, duh."

 _Called it._

"And I'm sure she reeeally appreciates that," she went on. "I'm sure she just tears her hair out waiting for me to will her into feeling sick to her stomach. Lucky Riley."

He winced through his teeth. Maybe he hadn't called anything. "There's more to it than that, though, lots more. And you know, I'm sure Riley really does appreciate it. We all do." Well, he could speak for himself, at least, but he could only assume Disgust would want to hear it anyway, for the sake of hearing it. "Goodness only knows what she'd get into if it wasn't for your driving. What'd get under her nails, on her clothes, her fingers, her face, or –"

"Ugh, enough. Please." She thrust her hands out at him, urging him to stop.

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about. You see things that I just can't." He shrugged. "Well, save for when something is so gross, it's scary." Spiders, blood, mold… the list went on and on. "But it's true. You're choosy and systematic…and you know, now that I'm thinking about it, it's kind of like you're keeping Riley safe from the things I can't understand."

And actually, now that he _was_ thinking about it, it was dawning on him how impressive it all really was. Looking to Disgust though, she seemed as disdainful as ever. Fear tried to be angry, to "feed the flame" as anger did, telling himself that was unfair of the impertinent Emotion, but all his mullings resulted in feeling hurt, hurt that his words went wasted without even knowing if he helped her or not.

 _She's back to her old self. I suppose that's a good sign..._

That's when an odd thought came to mind. Fear quirked his brow to Disgust, who mirrored the look as he asked, "What are you doing up in the first place?"

She replied without missing a beat. "I couldn't sleep."

Fear eyed her combed hair, makeup, and choice sleepwear of her day clothes. _Did you even try?_ he wanted to ask, but found it wise to stay on her good side. _What does she sleep in anyway?_ Fighting a gasp, and praying the darkness would cover his blush, Fear detonated that Train of Thought before it even left the station.

For several minutes, the two Emotions sat there in companionable silence. Fear felt a warmth in his chest, a feeling he presumed had long since been lost since Riley broke down in front of her parents and all the commotion petered out.

He was actually relaxed, at ease, _vulnerable_ with the green Emotion who just days ago he both loathed out of fear and feared to loathe.

It made her sudden question smack him all the harder.

"Do you actually care about Riley?"

Her voice was light, a tickle amidst the static overtaking the monitor, yet Fear lurched back as if she'd struck him across the cheek. In an instant he recalled his greatest shame. Betrayed, he thought Disgust, at this moment, would at least have the courtesy not to ask such a question so forwardly. For a flash of red he was angry, wanting her banished from his company, but by his very nature Fear simply couldn't lay out such harsh words, having instead a million others for such an accusation.

By his own crippling awkwardness, he could utter only one. "W-What?"

"'Do you _actually_ care about Riley?'" Glittery hair flounced as she whipped to face him. Her jaw was set forward, and a tremble squeezed her steely eyes. "That's what they asked me, Fear. That was what they wanted to know: do I _actually_ care about Riley?" Her fists trembled on her lap. Such a sight made Fear instinctively recoil, expecting one of them to land in his stomach or face at any moment.

Disgust might have noticed this too, or probably not, as she released her rage through a long, bitter sigh. Her little hands curled open slowly, and her breaths turned broken, and quiet. Fear was unsure of what to say, wary around her as a hunter would a lion.

"This was the only real question in my entire interview… 'Do you actually care about Riley?'" she mocked in a pitched voice, punctuating it with a sharp scoff of disgust.

Fear shrugged, although the girl wasn't looking at him to see it. "It just seems like a general question to me, personally."

Disgust spat forth a bitter laugh. "Yeah, you _would_ see it that way. You wouldn't understand."

Fear's head started spinning, overcome with a strike of _deja vu,_ the ghost of spiteful hate mail suddenly in his hands. Every bat of his eye purged the feeling, clearing an image of Disgust slunking into the couch, arms securely guarding her chest.

A twinge of pity gripped Fear by the stomach; bossy and prejudiced she might be, even now, Disgust still thought it worth her precious time to lay out her emotional baggage to him; him, and not Sadness, and all her wisdom and natural prowess at such sensitive matters.

The thought gave Fear pause. _Why_ didn't _she go to her?_ he wondered. Perhaps Fear simply was a last resort. A crestfallen shroud weighed Fear's heart heavy, but a new thought came to quickly perish it.

 _She… she still came to me though._ Even if he were a last resort, she still thought talking to him was preferable to giving whatever it was that ate her the cold shoulder. Realizing this for himself, Fear was unfamiliar with the odd feeling beginning to well in his cavity, but it was the best he felt all day for sure, maybe his whole life.

He guessed it was pride. _If it is,_ he thought, the feeling tugging at his heart, insistent as a child, _then I like it._

Fear gulped however; timidness was still his whole being, and he would come to regret this, he knew. "D-Do you, then?"

Disgust gave him a sidelong look, puzzled. "Do I what?"

"Well, do you care about Riley?" he asked. Behind what he hoped was a comforting smile, Fear was wishing, praying, that she wouldn't take this the wrong way.

"Are you kidding me?" Disgust laughed in disbelief. "I love our girl. I would do things for her that Mom wouldn't even dream about. But that's not the _point._ "

"Well, then, i-if that's the case, it was just another stupid question that _The Mind Reader — "_

"It was the _only_ question, Fear!" Her voice rattled into the emptiness of Headquarters and back.

His reassuring smile, weak as it was, was finally dealt the killing blow. "That… how? All of us," he babbled, "we, we had a dozen questions, why would they only ask you that one — "

" _I don't know!"_ she snapped. She sighed. "...I don't know. Okay? That was _it._ That was _all_ they wanted to know: if I gave a shred of scrap for _my_ baby girl. Like, seriously? _That_ was the only thing they wanted to find out about me? _That's_ what the editors of this crummy newspaper gossip about down there, and were just _dying_ to clarify? Whether or not I _actually_ care?!" Disgust was huffing furiously by the end, a ragged, tortured noise. Several heartbeats later she furiously rubbed a forearm across her eyes, then gently wrapped both around her stomach, her gaze completely averting Fear's. "Am…a-am I…Am I really that horrible?" she…whimpered? "Am I _that bad_ of an Emotion?"

As Disgust lapsed into a panting silence, a miserable air about her as she scowled at the floor in front of her, Fear came to grasp why she asked him that very same question just minutes ago, and seemed so disdainful to his pitiful efforts.

 _It's not about her ability as an Emotion,_ he realized. _She's asking if she's a bad person… Oh, Fear, you really are an idiot…_

Fear, as he scooted a cushion closer, hands scrubbing together with the anxiety thick in his chest cavity, hoped that it was not too late to comfort the prickly Emotion.

He opened his mouth to speak, but as the sheer magnitude of this self-imposed obligation to defy his uncomfortable nature tripled and bowed his shoulders, he immediately closed it again. His eyes scanned the hollow air in front of his nose as though he were reading a page from a relevant hardcover that could lend him all of the perfect words – Disgust would be expecting nothing less than perfection, no doubt, provided she was actually expecting him to speak in the first place. But Fear was never a wordsmith, though he fancied himself an intellectual anyway just to feel big in the same way Anger had his strength or the Emote beside him her beauty; yet he was owner of no such book, and couldn't even pretend its relevance ever existed in his vast mental library. Maybe, given the nature of the Emotion beside him, he'd be better off if he just kept his mouth shut after all.

Yet silence felt very wrong still. An innermost shudder willed strength into his tongue, which carefully liberated words that could have been ready to come out all along, for all he knew. "If they could see and hear what I'm seeing and hearing, I think they'd know that wasn't the case."

Disgust lifted her eyes.

"I mean – if their question was enough to make you feel like this, in spite of the fact that you know darned well how much you _do_ care…well, I'd say it means they're wrong about you. They don't know you. They don't see all of the the great things you do. The little miracles you work on a daily basis. Outside looking in, they haven't got a clue." He twisted his gaze to his own hands, watching intently as they wrestled in silence with one another. As Fear continued to speak, the words he spoke mainly to provide comfort for an Emotion he never thought needed them started to ring warmly in his ever-squirming gut.

The words he spoke next were as much for him as they were for her. "…And that's just it, I suppose. Maybe they just don't understand. Maybe they just took a gander at what's on the outside, made their guesses, placed their bets and shoved off, and they've never really given you the chance you deserved. There's a whole lot more to you than meets the eye…and all they've given you is a stingy little sideways glance." He could feel Disgust's eyes training toward him now – he impulsively shrugged. "It's their loss."

Something deep within snapped at him to shut up. He was going about this all wrong. He was making the situation worse. She'll call him a weirdo, a sap for spouting such awkward sentiment. For days to come he will be subject to the snickers of his coworkers; whenever he leaves to craft a mug of joe, he'll hear laughter pattering down the hall. The prospect of fleeing via Recall Tube seemed more enticing than before, brief and horrible as the thought was.

Disgust was going to hit him, then she was going to tell everybody. Every muscle was tense as he waited for the blow to come in for a landing.

"…How did you…?" Faint, laced with confusion, and no slap or sharp words punctuated her words. It was enough to make Fear blink twice.

He answered with his fists held close to his chest, still anticipating her fist or open palm: "Well, you know. I've been there."

Throughout the duration of the beat to follow he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not even in his vast peripheral vision. He was just too worried of what he would find on her face if he did. A harrowing mien of repulsion, a mocking sneer, or perhaps it would trigger another onset of chiding arguments against him and his class. And how dare he compare his own inner dilemma to hers? That wasn't how comforting another was supposed to work. He was being selfish. He'd been an idiot for trying.

She was finally opening her mouth to speak. Fear cursed himself for whimpering beneath her, for pinching his eyes shut.

"…did you really mean what you said?" she asked. Startled, Fear opened his eyes again.

He dared himself to peek in her direction. Her voice, frail as it remained, was different. He saw for himself that there was, in fact, a paltry and very mild suggestion of a grin playing at her painted lips, now. It could have been a trick of the pretty lighting, or maybe it was just a brand wishful thinking so stubborn that it was messing with his eyes. To be sure it was neither of these things, he chose to maintain eye contact with her for just a little bit longer.

"Yeah," Fear's mouth uttered before the word even entered his brain. He wasn't sure why a potential hazard as thoughts unbidden could happen to him of all Emotions, or, even more frightening, he did not seem to care. "There's something special in what you do, I think. Me, though, I just create make noise. I…" He felt his spirits sink, the very admission had come so easily and so casually to him. "I'm the bad one."

In an instant, Disgust's smile was gone, flipped around with lips slightly parted. "Fear, _no._ You're not _._ " She spoke sternly, even moved to pull her legs up and kneel on the sofa, facing him. "There's being humble, and then there's groveling. You're better than that. So don't you dare. 'Kay? Don't _even_ go there."

Fear gawked, playing the rarity of Disgust's kindly words in his head three times over before he had to rediscover his tongue to speak. When he remembered how though, the words suddenly died on his lips. Fear wanted to chuckle, he wanted to brush aside her words and keep the conversation in the uphill it was going in. But he could only force himself to sigh, and even that felt a chore.

"No," he muttered.

Fear reached into his pocket, and presented a fistful of torn and crumpled papers. "No. This… This is mine, Disgust." And suddenly, it came to Fear why he cared to read the letters at all, insane as the idea sounded on his head, and even crazier to hear coming from his own lips. "This is because of my own mistake. This is my reward for submitting to Anger. This is my, my 'job-well-done' for allowing _my_ baby girl to die on the inside." Fear gasped suddenly, and he shook to the sound of his own voice breaking. He snuffled sharply though, and steeled his voice long enough to finish.

"I'm the coward... I didn't do anything to stop this. And then I..." He gulped loud enough to feel Disgust cringe. "...I abandoned _Riley._ "

She sighed, narrowing her eyes. It was painfully difficult to determine if his confession had irritated her somehow. "Come on… You and I both know you didn't actually abandon anybody. You're still here, aren't you? Don't…don't be so melodramatic."

Fear moved his lips to speak, but froze just as the sound was about to leave his throat. Awkward and broken as it was, whether from the urge not to snap, or simply find the right words, he did not know, Disgust, the veritable Ice Queen herself, was trying to console him.

He felt his insides warm at the idea. But a pestilence riddled his particles not seconds later, as he remembered why. He hugged his arms close to his chest. "It… It doesn't change the fact that I still tried to run, Disgust. That's the thing. I actively tried to abandon her the minute things started looking grim..." He trailed off; suddenly, Fear did not feel like keeping Disgust in his company any longer. She wouldn't understand.

Now if only he weren't such a coward so he could just tell her to leave.

"Fear… when are you going to accept that you made a mistake and just move on?" She spoke as if it were as easy as changing into a clean shirt.

 _She makes it sound so easy. She always makes things sound so… easy._ He couldn't bear to look at her anymore, especially as her tone of voice toughened, now akin to the fist he'd been expecting moments ago. Now Fear was hoping his silence would drive her off; then they will never have to make mention of this again.

 _Then she can go back to hating me… And I can go back to... being me._

Yet his silence seemed to only drive a challenge for Disgust to conquer. "You're your own worst enemy that way," she went on, and he winced, sensing the scrutiny of her gaze. "And you know, I've seen it tear you down so many times, now, I've practically lost count. You just… You have to let it go. You just have to take a deep breath and tell yourself that it's going to be okay once you let go."

A second's pause. "That's what I do, at least."

Fear's shoulders arched skyward; he massaged them against a chill that Disgust seemed immune to. "I don't know how to do that. What's the use?"

"Well, there's your problem."

Fear eyed her, brow raised. The urge to bite back with his typical sarcasm had never been stronger. _What's that, now? That I'm Fear? That by nature, that as the very personification of anxiety and doubt, I was doomed from the start? Yeah, Disgust. I got that a long time ago._ He hoped the brow sufficed.

Disgust appeared unfazed by the look he was giving her, or at least kept it locked inside, along with every other complexity Fear had never known existed until tonight. "You can't possibly enjoy punishing yourself like this," she claimed. Her brows pushed together. "Harbouring these thoughts to yourself, keeping yourself from moving forward…? Do you even sleep well anymore?"

 _I'm Fear. I haven't slept well in eleven years._ Fear offered a lethargic shrug instead.

Disgust leaned toward him a bit, one arm propping herself up while the other rested on her thigh. "…Fear… Everyone makes mistakes. We _all_ do, we've _all_ made them. Don't forget…you're not the only one who wanted to run away."

He pulled back, eyes trained on her's to read them. She was being serious."But that's not the same-"

"It's _basically_ the same!" she proclaimed. "In the end, everybody involved wanted out. Anger did, I did…even Riley did. You weren't the only one. We all wanted the same thing. And yeah, we all did a little bit of damage… or a lot. But…" she shrugged lamely, "...we came out of it okay, didn't we? We're at least trying to pick up the pieces. And it's not like you're proud of what you did. _That'd_ be a different story. Instead…"

His five senses sparked beneath the sudden, unexpected arrival of Disgust's feather-light hand upon the crook of his arm. There was nothing he could do about the painful knot twisting into existence in his throat - her touch rendered him stone-still. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to.

When she spoke, the biting, exasperated, cynical voice of Disgust was simply not, but instead a gentle disposition, a warm, almost familial tone that Fear had only ever heard from one other Emotion. "…Instead," it said, "here you are, torn… broken, and falling apart because of a silly mistake you've made at the drop of a hat. And I know, I _know,_ this is lame and doesn't help at all, but… but you've got to forgive yourself. You can't let this hold you back forever, Fear."

" _Fear."_ The phrase echoed in his mind, rattling into the emptiness of Headquarters and back again into his ears so he may hear it again. _"Fear."_ Never, none that he could recall, has Disgust uttered his name with such… such…

 _Humanity._ The word was a warming thought in his head, and a disquieting one as well. Fear could not utter a word, still thinking Disgust was speaking to him as rattlings of "Fear" shot off in every breath he took.

"Disgust…?" His voice cracked like a child's. Suddenly he hoped that Disgust did not notice, as his face burned red. He thanked the darkness for covering him.

The green Emote hesitated a bit, and for a brief moment Fear hoped the weakness in his voice did not make her cringe. "Yeah?" she murmured, her tone a mix of expectancy and, somehow, patience at once.

Those pesky unbidden thoughts came to Fear again, but his mouth did not care, nor his tongue, his brain, or the nerves that seemed to get burned out at the end of every stressful day. He simply did not care.

"That was… Thank you, Disgust. Thank you..."

Disgust pulled back a bit, her lashes shot up into her hairline. Somehow, she had not expected that reaction. How couldn't she? "Fear… I…" Her eyes flittered this way and that. She slid off the couch, her shoes tapping lightly against the floor. "I should get back to bed. It's been… nice, nice talking with you." He felt the kindness in her voice, heard it, but Fear could only find himself speechless. And before he could even process what that meant, he realized he was alone, and this time Riley was on the monitor settling a prison riot.

He wondered if he said something wrong.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed! Lot of complex emotions running wild here**

 **As you can see, this took a lot of work. So show it some love and leave a review, eh?**


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